


things you do that remind me of my dog

by 11orbs



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11orbs/pseuds/11orbs
Summary: A collective list of memories and things that Tim does that reminds Brian of his dog, but Brian still loves him for anyways.





	things you do that remind me of my dog

 

**01\. inevitably falling asleep on me, anytime, anywhere, regardless of the location.**

It's unbelievably easy for Brian to talk Tim into doing just about anything. Brian says  _jump,_ and Tim says  _how high._ Brian tells him to bark like a dog and he does. _Marble Hornets_ was only but one of the many things that Brian managed to talk Tim into doing - and as much as Tim finds it inconvenient and _maybe_ just a bit annoying - he can't deny enjoying the endless opportunities out there to screw around with Brian off set even for as much as they both get yelled at by Alex for it.

It's an evening set this time, _take two_ turning into  _take six_ and then _six_ turning into _seven, eight, nine._

Tim can already feel yesterday's lack of sleep finally catching up to him, his movements turning slow and everything hazy and far away. Even if Tim had already had his scenes shot, there's still that embarrassing thought of falling asleep while everyone's filming creeping in the back of his mind and then having to be wakened back up again. God, what if  _Alex_ has to be the one to wake him back up?  _God._

Tim rubs his eyes, watches Brian acting out his lines on the set and heaves a deep sigh. Even Brian seems to be getting irritated.  _We can have dinner after this,_ Brian promised him earlier.  _Please, Tim?_

_Okay,_ Tim replied. _Okay. I'll go with you. But just this time_ after what had to be the hundredth time of talking to Brian over the phone about Alex's movie. 

_God._

While Tim awkwardly paced back and forth out of anxiety and not knowing  _what else is there for him to do_ (there's not even any chairs to sit on like last time, and it's not as if he's willing to sit on the concrete floor), he slowly grew more tired by the minute.

Soon enough (but not as soon as anyone would have liked it), the set was called to a finish and it was time for everyone to head home. Tim heard a sigh from Brian's direction, and he couldn't be any more relieved. 

"Tim!" 

It's hearing Brian's voice that comes as a bigger relief to him, something comforting that keeps him steady and his toes on the ground. Tim turned his head in the direction of Brian's voice behind him, and Brian repeats himself again. 

"Tim!" Brian yelled.

"I heard you the first time." Tim said, although he wasn't angry - and hardly even upset.  _Relieved_ in its purest form.

"I know," Brian grinned. "I just like yelling your name."

Tim looked at him with a raised eyebrow, shaking his head with a sigh - although he couldn't help the smile that sat on his face. 

"Yeah - alright." Tim said. Brian seemed almost as tired as him from the looks of it, although with his boundless energy he really doubted that Brian could ever possibly be as tired as him. 

"Come on, let's get dinner." Brian said. Tim nodded, a sleepy but pleased  _mhmm._ Halfway to the walk from the set to Brian's car, Brian ends up interlocking fingers with Tim - and in his tired state Tim can only look down in curiosity and give Brian's hand a reaffirming squeeze.

As a gust of wind passes by them, Brian sneezes and shakes his head. 

"It's cold today," He commented. "Really, really cold." 

"You can huddle with me if you feel cold." Tim replied. Brian raised an eyebrow in interest, looking over at Tim.

"Hmmm?" Brian hummed. Realizing what he had said, Tim's face grew hot and he quickly shook off his comment.

"Nothing!" Tim said. "Nothing. Nevermind." 

"Are you sure? 'Cause it sounded like  _something_ to me." Brian spoke, that same cheeky grin returning to his face. Tim wanted to snark back at him, but couldn't find it in himself to do so.

Instead, he quickly shook his head with a laugh.

Once they finally made it in Brian's car, Brian sighed out of relief as he shut the door behind him with Tim following suit. On their drive back to his house, Tim's thoughts seemed to drift away from him in his state of feverish haze - sleep slowly taking him over. 

Brian is saying  _something,_ although Tim can't exactly comprehend any of what he's saying enough for it to be understandable.  _So tired_ and  _dinner_ and  _dog_ is one of the few things Tim can hear and understand, although disconnected and strange with the lack of context. 

When Brian mentions the word  _dog_ all Tim can really think of Brian's own dog, Maya, and how much she must've missed him while they were on set. Tim still remembers the first day he came over to Brian's house, how Maya was waiting patiently on the doorsteps for Brian to come and the instant he arrived she immediately ran up and pounced on him - too eager and too impatient. 

Before he could even realize it, Maya had warmed up to Tim far more quickly than he would have ever expect.  _She's a sweet puppy,_ Brian told him - and she sure was. Tim wondered that if once they arrived at Brian's house if she would show up and pounce on him again, although with the recent cold atmosphere he doubt she'd be waiting on the doorsteps again like she would.

"Tim?" Brian asks. He steers right, and when Tim glances briefly over at the view in front of him he can already see the familiar scenery of the heavily forested area and the sound of Maya barking reaching the place that Brian calls  _home._

(And it is, without a single doubt in mind,  _home_  to Tim as well as everyone else too _.)_

"Yeah?" Tim replies, or at least he's pretty sure he does. He doesn't know. 

Brian says something, but that comes out incomprehensible to Tim's ears like everything else. Maya's barking continues on in the background as they drive up past her to park up into Brian's garage, the sound of her howling still resting in the back of Tim's mind.

Brian says something again, but Tim still can't tell what it is - his head now resting on Brian's right shoulder. There's a strange comfort that Tim finds with sleeping on him, a peaceful silence resting between them while Tim finally shuts his eyes. 

Vaguely, Tim can feel Brian's fingers running through Tim's hair as he falls asleep - but he can't be too sure. He must be dreaming.

 

* * *

**02\. getting me wet when you get wet too**

 

 

"Tim!" Brian yells, but his voice falls on deaf ears. "Tim!"

The sun is about as unbearable as any other day, and the day before that one too and the day before that - but it's the way that the heat makes clothing cling to your skin from the sweat and the impossible to fight off exhaustion and humidity that not even a fan or a shitty evening soap opera could kill that gets the both of them.

 _Let's go outside, Tim_ , Brian suggests. _Okay._ And he does, both of them do, standing outside Tim's front porch while Brian watches Tim with a smile that says he could never be happier than with him. They lay in the grass while it itches up against them uncomfortably, poking at skin until it's raw but Brian distracts Tim and both of their discomforts by pulling him in for a kiss. 

Brian doesn't _exactly_ recall how any of this started, but he knows they were outside and eventually through their wandering they found Tim's water hose. From there, it seemed only then that things escalated with Tim testing it out which must've been unbelievably old, leaking just barely when they discovered it and eventually it surprised attacked Tim in the face with water once he got a hang of the controls.

Brian tried not to laugh but did anyway, and soon it turned into a childish fight with Tim chasing Brian around the boundaries of his backyard with his water hose while Brian tried to defend himself and hide behind whatever he could find for safety from the dreaded soaker.

"Fuck - Tim! Tim! Hey!" Brian shouted as Tim continued to chase him around the field, sopping wet with water and eventually cornering him with the hose.

"Let's take it easy - uh, you know, I think -" Brian tried to reason, only to be cut off by Tim's voice.

"Yeah, nice try." Tim interrupted Brian, proceeding to spray him with the hose. The water came out abrupt and harsh, and instinctually Brian rose his arms up to defend himself but to no avail. Eventually, Brian found himself laughing while Tim dropped the hose.

"What was that for, you goofball?" Brian found himself choked up in his own laughter. Tim dropped to his knees, crawling over to Brian.

"For laughing at me!" Although Tim was smiling too.  _Jesus,_ but Brian couldn't find a single part of himself to be angry at Tim. This is  _Tim,_ Brian thinks to himself.  _This is the man I'm in love with,_ and he can't help but laugh harder as Tim crawls into Brian's lap to nuzzle into his neck.

"God, Tim, you're so -- hey! hey! You're getting me more wet!" Brian exclaimed, although he wrapped his arms to hold Tim by the waist and pull him closer to his body.

"Yeah. And?" Tim snorts. When Tim is happy, his brightness radiates off of him and bounces off on others too, Brian has noticed. He's contagious, but Brian doesn't mind in the least as he tentatively combs his fingers through Tim's hair, watching him relax into his touch.

He sighs, feeling as if nothing in the the world mattered right now but the comforting moment shared between the two - although both incredibly wet and inevitably needing a shower and to dry themselves soon, Brian couldn't find it in himself to care less. 

And it seemed Tim couldn't, either. 

"Hey, what happened to all this stuff about not wanting to get wet?" Tim peeped up after a long moment of silence with the two cuddling with each other, soaking wet. Brian laughed.

"I'm okay with getting wet. Just not being chased around by a maniac with a watering hose." Brian replied cheekily. 

"Oh, _wow_." Tim said, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. 

"It's true!" Brian told him. Tim rolled his eyes. 

"You're so mean, sometimes." Tim spoke, tone sounding of mock hurt. 

"But you still love me." Brian said. Tim looked up at Brian from his lap, and smiled softly. 

"Yeah, I do." Tim responded, voice kind. Brian let out a sigh, continuing to comb his fingers through Tim's hair. So soft. And so gentle,  _just like Tim,_ Brian thought.

It's times like these, even if as brief as they are and inevitable enough for them to end, that Brian enjoys the most. The good, the great, the best. In his eyes, he sees Tim, and in Tim he sees someone that he feels he has loved for a thousand million years - and maybe even centuries more. 

Sometimes he wonders what Tim sees in him, but he holds back on asking that, too. When Tim snuggles harder into Brian's neck, he already knows the answer.

"We should go wash up soon," Tim broke the silence after a long moment of peaceful quiet shared between the two. "I call the showers first."

Brian huffs.

" _I_ was the one who got chased down by you with a water hose, shouldn't I be the one to go first?" He asked, although far from angry.

"And  _I_ was the one who got sprayed in the face with a water hose first." Tim replied. Brian rolled his eyes.

"Fine," Brian said. Tim grinned smugly, peeling himself off of Brian's body and standing up to lightly brush his knees. Brian followed suit, although stopping himself for a moment to admire Tim's presence beside him.

"We can shower  _together,_ you know." Brian suggested. "Not if you don't want to, of course, but -"

Tim scratches his arm, distracting himself with a scab he finds resting where his fingernails end up picking at it until it starts to bleed. 

"Sure." Tim replies, clearly nervous but then rewording his sentence, ending up stuttering instead. "I mean --- yeah, okay." 

Under his hair, Brian could spot a light smile on Tim's face that blends in perfectly with the vibrant sun glowing behind him.

* * *

**03\. stealing my stuff**

Tim is  _awkward,_ far from subtle and although this certainly isn't the first time he's been invited over to Brian's house (and definitely won't be the last) it's still weird to him - a stiffness in the atmosphere that still causes him to hesitate.

(For the most part, it's usually Brian at Tim's place but things seem to be different this time.)

"Do you want something to eat?" Brian asked, but Tim didn't catch it the first time so he repeats it. "Tim, do you want something to --"

"I'm good." Tim replied before Brian could even finish his sentence. Brian nodded his head, smiling in understanding. Brian's kitchen is nice, Tim thinks, with the light from the sun shining in on Brian through the window. 

While Tim rubs the sleep out of his eyes, Brian decides to rummage through his fridge to find any sort of drink left there for him to have. Settling on grabbing one of the canned sodas from the mostly used up pack, he casually leans back and pops off the cap.

"Laundry day." Brian spoke up after a long sip. "You gonna help?"

It comes without hesitation, a quick nod from Tim to snap his own self out of his stupor. Brian has to hold back laughter at Tim's eagerness.  _Cute._

"Sure." Tim replied. "I mean - yeah. Of course." 

(It's an unusually gentle scene for either of them, Tim realizes. Far too domestic. Far too sweet. But it's  _Brian,_ so why does it matter if its either of these things? Why  _would_ it matter?)

"And you're  _sure_ you don't want anything to eat or drink?" Brian asked again, just to be sure. It couldn't hurt to ask.

"I'm  _alright,_ you don't have to worry about me." Tim reassured him. Brian blew a strand of hair out of his eyes, taking another sip of his soda.

"Yeah, well, worrying about you is what I do best." Brian said. 

Before Tim could come up with a counter response, Brian spoke up again. 

"We should probably head down now. Get started early, if you're okay with that." Brian suggested. Tim nodded his head lightly, and with that they both headed to Brian's laundry room downstairs. While Tim helped with carrying the baskets worth of clothing (exhausting enough, but Tim would take a bullet for Brian if that's what he really wanted), Brian helped assist as well once Tim took the first load down and left Tim alone downstairs while he went to fetch more clothing.

For once, Brian's house was unusually much more cleaner than it would usually be. Not that Brian was a messy person, but it was rare that Tim visited his place and there wouldn't be something at least  _slightly_ out of order - the occasional dirty shirt tossed on the floor and dishes still in desperate need of rinsing or drying off.

Laundry day, Tim supposed. Maybe it was just a house cleaing day altogther - tidying up the house just seemed to go hand in hand with laundry, as they were both things dealing with cleanliness.

Somewhere in the midst of sitting on the laundry machine and contemplating, Tim's eyes wandered to Brian's clothes sitting in the basket right next to him. 

 _Maybe,_ Tim thought but then shook it off. Stupid.  _Stupid._

But even for as stupid as the idea might have been, there was no doubt that sniffing Brian's clothes was  _tempting._

With the thin walls of Brian's house, Tim could hear the steady sound of Brian walking above where he sat. Tim sighed.  _Okay._

Was he _really_ doing this, he wanted to ask himself, but quickly grabbed one of Brian's shirts (dark blue, Tim noted) before he could think any further on anything else. 

It rest still between his hands, Tim feeling the texture and spreading his thumbs out against it every now and then - rubbing circles gently into the shirt like he did to Brian's back when he hugged him. Hesitantly, but surely enough, Tim took the shirt between his hands and sniffed it - undeniably smelling like _Brian_ even if not much at all.

The steady  _thump thump thump_ echoed throughout the house, and as if on instinct Tim hid Brian's blue shirt under him - Brian's presence surely enough appearing in Tim's line of vision. Brian gripped the last basket (green, Tim noted again) firmly between his hands with the look on his face of an overly excited dog as if laundry day was the best god given day in the world. 

"What are you doing sitting on the clothes washer again, you goof?" Brian laughed. Embarrassed, Tim's face lit up with red - although he tried his best to shrug it off. 

"Nothing." Tim said in response to Brian, although drawing a doubtful look from him regardless. Brian shook his head, his grin still complacent on his face while he gestured Tim to hop off.

"Well, I'm going to need you to move if we're going to do this." Brian waved his hand. Tim faltered, the realization of him still in possession of Brian's stupid blue shirt hitting him dumbly - and suddenly he wasn't all too sure how he was going to explain something as ridiculous as grabbing one of Brian's shirts out of the laundry basket just to sniff it of all things in the face of Brian.

"Uh." Tim hesitated. "I think, uh -"

"I know you have my shirt, Tim. You do this everytime you come over." Brian pointed out.

" _Whaaaaaaaaaat_ , I have _no idea_ what you're even _talking_ about!" Tim exclaimed through nervous laughter. Brian's grin grew as he tried to hold back his own laughter, finding amusement in Tim's reactions.  _Cute._

"Yeah, yeah. Move over." Brian waved his hand at Tim again. Reluctantly, Tim scooted over and hopped off the washer - clutching the shirt that he took from the basket with him too when he got off.  _Laundry day,_ and although Tim was embarrassed and awkward and a whole plethora of other things he could only ever even barely  _begin_ to describe - he was simply happy to indulge in the pleasure of having Brian by his side.

While the two waited for the machine to finish up washing Brian's clothes (and to an extent, Tim's clothes as well given how often Brian would let Tim wear them) Tim had idly leaned back against the wall while Brian contently looked over at him.

"You know, you can always ask if you wanna borrow one of my clothes." Brian spoke up to break the silence. Tim quickly turned his head and looked away in embarrassment, mumbling something under his breath.

"Yeah." Tim managed to choke up, although his eyes trying to focus on somewhere else in the room. "I know - it was just for something  _stupid,_ okay? I won't do it again." 

"You're so cute, Tim." Brian said, his face bright as he continued looking at Tim.  _Admiring_ him, even, and as embarrassing enough as it was for Brian to admit there was far too many times spent with him through the day that he had caught himself doing just exactly that.

Something about Tim was enchanting. 

"You too." Tim replied, albeit sheepishly. He didn't even know what he was  _thinking,_ getting caught by Brian for something as stupid as that. Still, Brian was kind - far more kinder than he ever should've been with someone like Tim - and for that, Tim was grateful.

"Do you remember the first time you stole one of my clothes? It was my blue jacket." Brian asked after a brief moment of silence. Tim was quick to shake his head even if he  _did_ remember, although Brian didn't seem to mind. He leaned his head back, sighing pleasantly. 

"No idea, dude." Tim laughed. 

"Yeah, it was like - one of the first few times you came over, actually." Brian said. 

"That's really funny, because I don't remember that at all!"

"We were cuddling each other on my sofa, I gave you my jacket because you got really cold and you were sick and then we both fell asleep. And then the next day I walked you home, and when I came home I realized my jacket was gone." Brian continued, attempting to refresh Tim's memories despite knowing very well Tim had been obviously lying about his forgetfulness.

"But you gave it back the next day, so I forgive you." Brian quickly added, grinning.

Tim itched his neck nervously, cheeks heating up.

"Yeah. Okay. Fine. I remember that." Tim sighed.

"What did you even do with it, you dork?" Brian laughed.

"I don't remember! I guess I sort of just. Slept with it, or something - because it reminded me of you." Tim's fingers turned down towards his arms, where he picked absentmindedly at a scab until his own realization of how embarrassing that confession had been truly was. "Not in like, a creepy way or anything! I just hugged it. Or something. I don't know, okay?!"

Brian laughed harder, sounding like a sunbeam to Tim's ears. A beacon of light, and the knowledge that he had made Brian laugh like that left Tim with a sense of pride that couldn't be described or replaced by anything else.  _I made Brian laugh,_ Tim thought with a small smile on his face.  _I made him laugh._

"I love you, Tim." Brian stated. "You're so cute."

"I love you, too, Bri." Tim said, blushing sheepishly.

After a few moments of passing by time with idle conversation and laughter, Brian's washing machine finally came to a stop as it had finished up his laundry. While Brian delivered the clothes from the washer to the baskets, Tim helped with organizing them in what went where.

"This one's all small now," Brian sighed as he held out one of his long sleeved shirts, clearly displeased.

"We can always buy a new one." Tim pointed out, continuing to sort Brian's clothing into the two baskets. 

"'We'?" Brian asked. "You're getting awfully domestic, Tim."

Tim clicked his tongue, folding another one of Brian's shirts. 

"I am  _not._ You're more domestic than me, if anything." Tim pointed out. Brian smiled lightly in response. 

"Maybe. Maybe you're right." Brian replied, leaning his head on Tim's shoulder.

"I  _am_ right." Tim replied smugly, the two of them in comfortable silence with Brians laundry until it had been interrupted by the sound of something breaking from upstairs and Maya barking frantically - high pitched and constant in her noises.

"Fuck!" Brian jolted upwards Tim's shoulder, scrambling as he ran up the stairs. " _Maya_!"

Tim sat in shock, taking a moment to register what happened before following after Brian and attempting his best to try and hold back his laughter. 

* * *

**04. ~~demanding~~  politely seeking attention **

Love is not meant for Brian, and it definitely isn't meant for somebody like Tim. Things are different with Brian, though. Tim can't explain it, doesn't even know  _how_ to explain it but there is something about Brian that feels different - something about him that attracts Tim to Brian like a moth to a flame. 

(Tim still remembers the time he first met Brian, how everyday before that his life was stagnant and a constant drift of Tim floating inbetween Mondays through Sundays and all over again.

And it still is, for the most part, but it's Brian who is different and gives it meaning. Maybe Tim wasn't meant for love and neither was Brian but there's a hole in Tim's heart that Brian carved up and curled inside making a home inside his heart all just for Brian.

When someone asks Tim  _who is Brian Thomas_ and  _what does he mean to you_ Tim without fail answers  _a lot_ without question every time. It's an easy, direct and uncomplicated answer that's more than enough to say - but still those words fall flat on what Tim truly feels for Brian. It's not enough, it's not enough,  _it's never enough._

Brian Thomas is everything to Tim, and so so much more than he could ever say. Brian Thomas is the steady heartbeat in Tim's chest, the racing pulse jumping out his throat when Brian kisses with him and the gentle calm of crashing ocean waves when they're both sound asleep holding eachother warmly. 

Brian is Brian, and even then he is  _so, so much more.)_

It is past midnight and although Tim should be asleep, his head resting in the crook of Brian's neck with one of Brian's hands wrapped around Tim gently (almost too gently for someone like him, Tim thinks) there is nothing he can find to make himself fall asleep as with any other night before this one.

The only difference, of course, is that Brian is here sleeping with him in his own house - Tim doesn't know why he acts so surprised when Brian falls asleep so much easier than he does. It's a given, just like Tim's insomnia is a given even if Brian sleeps beside him. Tim stops for a moment. Thinks.  _Maybe,_ and that thought is grasping around his neck and pulling him  _forward -_ maybe, maybe, _maybe_ echoing in the back of his mind like a hollow whisper.

"Brian?" Tim whispers out into the deep, deep darkness - and of course no response. Again, and still nothing in reply.

He doesn't know why he's so shocked.

Tim sighs lightly, presses his head into Brian's shoulder and Brian lightly stirs in his sleep. What comes from him sounds like a small noise of confusion, and eventually Brian's eyes slowly open into awakeness.

"Tim?" Brian called out hoarsely, sleep woven into his voice. "Why are you --"

"I can't sleep." Tim replied. "Sorry."

Brian sighs through his nose, but hardly angry. Even through the night, Tim can spot a smile perking up on Brian's lips in the peripheral vision of his eye.

"It's okay." Brian said, his hand unoccupied with Tim's waist almost instinctively trailing up to pet Tim's hair gently. Tim relaxes through Brian's hand combing his hair, an oddly comforting gesture on its own but especially so when it's coming from Brian.

"I don't mind at all." Brian added on. Briefly, Tim wondered just how much Brian must have had to put up with when it came to him. A feeling of guilt surged through him at that, although he tried his best to brush the thoughts away. Brian tightened his grip on Tim, still as gentle as ever.

"I can't really sleep either." Brian added on. "So I guess we're in the same boat."

"I love you." Tim blurted out after a brief moment of silence (too brief, Tim thinks, too quiet for too long with far too much of the absence from Brian's voice) and even though Tim was unable to see Brian's face from the angle he laid in he could still (practically) feel Brian's face light up at his words. "A lot. Way more than you can imagine."

Brian holds Tim tighter, and Tim can feel his own pulse racing like  _redyellowredyellowredyellow_ just like the feelings he has for Brian is dripping and tinged in. Brian is the sun, so bright and so big - his essence of his spirit large enough to take up a whole room, contagious laughter and warmth reflecting light and bouncing off on others. 

"I love you too, Tim." Brian whispers into the dark. It feels like a far, far too gentle and quiet moment shared between two lovers in the dark - but Tim can't bring himself to care even the slightest bit. He lets the words sink into his brain, his heart, his skull.

There's never been anyone whose been sweeter with Tim than Brian has. He wonders if Brian feels the same way about him (hopes he does, knows he probably doesn't and hates himself all the more for it - too bitter too dirty too unclean), listening to the fragile sound of their breathing in sync. 

"Sometimes I wish I could run away with you." Tim whispered. "And forget all of - all of  _this."_

He isn't sure exactly what  _this_ is, but even if Tim does not Brian must because he hears the gentle hum from Brian's end and the soothing voice that follows.

"One day we can, if that's what you really want." Brian murmured. 

Tim thinks about Brian's dog Maya, her sweet howls and barks when he enters Brian's living room - he thinks about  _Marble Hornets_ and everyone else apart of the cast and how, just like everything else in his life, Tim is a minor character only put in there for convenience's sake. Alex, too, and then Jay who Tim hasn't heard from for awhile (but it's not as if he even shows up that much at all, he's a  _script supervisor_ for Christ's sake) and the plethora of headaches arisen from being on set and Alex's constant yelling.

The trees, too, and the wind howling and whispering behind Tim's ears and messing his hair all up just when he previously fixed it and the constant urge to be  _dragged off_ to _god knows where_ deep into Rosswood Park where that feeling of  _something_ calling out to him finally reaches Tim and grasps Tim's arms and takes in his hands, the uncomfortably cold feeling of whatever that  _thing_ is finally, finally touching him in a way that makes Tim's hairs stand on end and whispering in a deep raw and pulsing sensation that makes Tim's heart leap out his chest and his eardrums break and senses all go wild and haywire and completely absolutely _feral_ just like ---

 _just like,_ and Tim doesn't realize he's starting to cry but he is. It's  _too much,_ everything is, and his suspicions are confirmed without a single doubt that  _Tim Wright is most definitely crying right now_ when he hears Brian whispering  _shhh shhh shhhh_ and a plethoras of other comforting gestures.

He rubs Tim's back, whispering something along the lines of  _it's going to be alright_ that Tim doesn't quite catch in his nerve wracked, overwhelmed state of mind just like Brian always does when Tim's upset. Frustrated, upset, overwhelmed, and every other past week's repressed emotions are finally catching up to Tim in a way that he hates more than anything else.

Except.  _Except,_

Things are different this time, because Brian is right by him and holding him.

"I'm sorry," Tim manages to choke out. "For everything."

Brian hushes him.

"Don't be," Brian whispers. "I love you so much, Tim."

"I'm really stupid. And needy." Tim added.

"You're not needy. You have a right to, you know, feel things and be upset like any other human being." Brian countered back.

"Yeah?" Tim laughed. "But you're not denying I'm stupid."

 _"Shhhhhh,"_ Brian hushed him again, although this time it had been more laughter-filled than the previous. He hummed, softly, like the coo of a gentle bird and Tim wondered just what he did to deserve somebody like Brian. Getting sad over nothing, but Brian combs his fingers through Tim's hair.

The feeling is still vivid, and everything of his childhood feels too viscerally real - memories returning back to him in quick harsh flashes of hot white fire that makes Tim feel as if he's reliving everything all over again.  _Too much,_ this week has been too much for either of them - and more than anything right now Tim just wants to hold Brian's hand as he watches the sun rise up just as he did the night before that and the night before that and the night before that.

 _Rosswood Park,_ a tall man in a suit and then  _Marble Hornets_ but Brian is whispering in Tim's ear and petting his hair, rubbing his back tracing small circles with his fingers.  _Stupid and needy._ Tim hates himself more than anyone else for being the way he is, but ultimately (and without fail, every single time) Brian always seems to think different.

"I love you." Tim whispers again, still crying (still crying, Tim repeats in his head bitterly). Brian hums.

"I love you, too." He replies, but Tim doesn't need to hear it from him directly to know without a doubt just how Brian exactly feels about him.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> wow so this took like.......several months to complete??? freshman year of highschool is WILD ldjsnfhcjdnf but im still glad i got to complete it finally :"")! i love both my boys brian and tim very much....and I hope all of u do too!!


End file.
